Noodles and Freud

It has been so long since I last saw Kathyrn that I’m afraid I will not be able to recognize her and her penchant for glamorous blazers, but as I speak to her secretary Isabel to confirm that I am standing in the right place, I discern her pink outfit, a blur in the rotating doors of the building. She hugs me and smiles.

We speed through the “how have you beens” and “how is work,” and during the moments of silence, I feel that she searches for a subject upon which to focus. We go from my obsession with folding bikes, to her hikes in the North, and finally return to my academic interest: clinical psychology. When I mention my work with families at Settlement Health and New York Center for Child Development, she asks why I don’t think about obtaining my teaching certificate. Is it something in my face that tells her how exciting it is to work with children? Is it a glow, a hint of something she hasn’t noticed when I speak of other possible career interests? It’s as if I accidentally revealed a guarded secret through my eyes without knowing it.

Yes, I confess to her that if money and time were not an issue, I would get my masters in clinical psychology and then my PhD. Nervous to ask my next question and uncertain whether it's appropriate to the conversation at hand, I whisper, “How does one stay true to oneself?” Surrounded by classmates that opt to enter the finance or consulting industry, I convince myself that they are the only legitimate ways to make a living. Kathyrn smiles knowing all too well that the answer to my question is no Oprah’s Book Club exclusive. “I often associate success with money,” I shamefully admit. “Usually the people that associate success only with money have a low self image,” she explains. Spending seven years to get a degree for a job that does not pay the thousands that consultants and investment bankers make is not what I would call ideal.

We explore from where my interest in clinical psychology stems and how exciting it is for me to be in a session with my supervisor at the clinic who is a psychologist and never fails to encourage me to pursue clinical work. There are no more silent moments, only the steady rhythm of two engaged minds drafting, taking turns taking the lead. She looks at her watch and apologizes for having to leave so soon despite the fact that she generously took a 1 ½ hour lunch to meet with me. “Take baby steps. The good thing is that you are young and you can try on different suits. It seems like you are noodling this out a bit more.” I am confused by the last statement, imagining in my mind what it is like to noodle out ideas and wondering what ingredients one adds to make the original dough. I think (or I hope) that it means that I am preparing to make one of the best pastas of my life.